


The Miracle

by Elton_Hercules_John



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, Miracle Pregnancy, Miracles, Mpreg, Protective Crowley, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), The Antichrist, The immaculate conception, Virgin Aziraphale (Good Omens), Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-19 12:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22911028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elton_Hercules_John/pseuds/Elton_Hercules_John
Summary: Aziraphale has been 'blessed' with a miracle by Gabriel, just as Mary had been all those years ago.Set eleven years before the apocalypse.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first Good Omens fic! I've only recently gotten into the fandom, so there may be a few continuity errors. Please bare with them!
> 
> If you like this fic, come chat to me @elton-hercules-john on tumblr :) ❤️

Aziraphale had been arranging books when it happened. 

The shop was closed up for the night, and he was about ready to go upstairs for a nap when the front doors swung open, the bell above them happily tinkling. 

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid we're closed at the moment. We do open again on Monday at nine o'clock, if you would like to come back then!" Aziraphale called, hidden by a bookcase of novels by E. M Forster. 

"Aziraphale, buddy!" The too-cheery, too-American voice rang out. Oh, good lord. Gabriel. Aziraphale carefully placed a first-edition copy of Maurice back on the shelf, then stepped out from behind the bookcase, a polite smile on his face.

"Gabriel. How can I help you?" 

"Got a job for you, pal." Gabriel grinned. Aziraphale didn't know why the man insisted on so many nicknames. "It's the big one." 

"The… 'Big one'?" Aziraphale asked calmly, while his mind worked a million miles a minute. "What, pray tell, is… 'The big one'?" 

"Well, you know my job. Come to Mary, tell her that she's going to have a virgin birth, the child of God, yada yada yada. Well…" Gabriel leaned in, his hands behind his back, and raised an eyebrow at Aziraphale. "It's time, Aziraphale. Time for the second war." 

"Oh! Oh, already? Ah. Well. I'm- I'm quite busy right now, unfortunately, miracles to do, bookshops to run, all that stuff. Very busy. Too busy to- to fight." 

"You're not understanding what I'm saying. We need the antichrist for the war to happen, don't we?" The man explained, extra slowly, as though Aziraphale was stupid and didn't speak English. Aziraphale nodded. "Wellllll. We need someone to carry the antichrist, don't we? And today's your lucky day, buddy!" 

"I beg your pardon?" Aziraphale blinked quickly, then gripped the side of a bookshelf to ground himself. "If you are saying what I believe you're saying, you want me. Me? Me. To- to- to carry- I cannot! I simply cannot!" 

"Aww, c'monnnnnn." The archangel pleaded. "None of the other guys up there wanted to do it, so it kinda fell on you. Listen… I'll up your miracle allowance if you do this. Promise. That food you want? Got it. New clothes? They're yours." 

"But I like my clothes…" Aziraphale whined, rubbing his thumb over the worn velvet of his waistcoat. "They're comfy." 

"I was just giving an example, buddy. Uh… books!" Gabriel grabbed the nearest book, a copy of the Bible. How ironic. "You like books, yeah? You could have any book you wanted, no consequences. Sounds pretty neat, huh?" 

"Well, see, the thing is, Gabriel…" Aziraphale fiddled with a loose button on his coat, reminding himself to sew that tighter once he got upstairs. "There is consequences. Because you're asking- you are asking me, a- a- a man, to- to carry the antichrist! Where is- how is- they have no place to go! I don't have a womb!"

Gabriel clicked his fingers. Aziraphale's stomach gave an uneasy turn, making him lurch and grip the bookcase harder. "Problem solved."

"Gabriel- I- I swear, I will change it back! You have- have no right- no right! To change my innards like that!" Aziraphale complained, whining loudly. 

"It's all Her plan, Aziraphale. You wouldn't go against the word of God, would you?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow. Aziraphale swallowed heavily, effectively snookered. 

"Well, of course I wouldn't. It's just- isn't there a better person for the job? Maybe someone… Someone down- down there?" Aziraphale hissed the last part and nodded at the floor, as if they could hear him. They couldn't, of course. 

"Sorry, buddy. Your time to shine." The taller man walked forward, clasping Aziraphale's shoulder. Aziraphale's insides felt like they were turning and swirling again. It made him feel awfully queasy.

"Oh, goodness… Please let go, that feels absolutely terrible…" Aziraphale groaned, a hand rested on his middle. Gabriel didn't let go for a few more seconds. "Sorry, pal. Making sure it was properly in there. All done!" 

The archangel moved back, not bothering to help as Aziraphale shakily lowered himself into a nearby armchair. Even while sitting, his hands and legs trembled terribly. He swallowed heavily, then glanced up at Gabriel. "So… This- This is it, then? They… it… Is in there?" 

"Yep! Congratulations, daddy! Or mommy. Whatever you wanna be called. Anyways… Places to be, people to smite. You know the deal." Gabriel turned on his heel, slowly walking to the front doors of the shop. Without turning back, he said; "I'll be back to see you in, uhhh… Six or so months? Just to give you a check in. Make sure you're nurturing the lil' troublemaker right." Gabriel laughed. Aziraphale didn't. 

"Yes, right, I'll- I'll see you soon, Gabriel. Thank you." That wasn't what Aziraphale had meant to say. He just couldn't help being kind. 

As soon as Gabriel left, Aziraphale slowly pushed himself to his feet, a hand on his stomach as he stumbled over to his office. He grabbed the rotary telephone, leaning on the desk as he manually pushed in the numbers. He stood with bated breath as he waited for the recipient. It got to the last ring before they picked up. 

"Crowley. We need to talk."


	2. Chapter 2

An hour later, Aziraphale was sat at the Ritz. He had their usual order of wine sent to the table, along with some angel food cake for himself while he waited for Crowley to turn up.

He knew when the demon turned up without even having to turn around. The front doors slammed open, and there were various yells from the waiters as he paced through the restaurant, growling "Angel?!"

Aziraphale sat silently at their usual table, toying with the sponge cake, poking and prodding at it with his golden spoon, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Until Crowley flopped down in the chair across from him, breathing heavily, almost seething, his hair out of place and his blazer half on. So much for not drawing attention to oneself. 

"Crowley-"

"You, angel, are going to tell me what the hell is going on!" Crowley grabbed the wine bottle from the ice bucket, unscrewing the cap and pouring a large glass-full of the blood red liquid. 

"Once you calm down." Aziraphale answered stiffly, still prodding at his cake, staring directly at it as he was too scared to look at either Crowley or all the tables watching them. "You are causing a scene." 

"I'm causing a scene? I'm causing a scene?!" Crowley took a long drink from his glass, then slammed it down. "Fucking hell. Right. Calm. I'm calm. Calm as can be. Calm as one can possibly be when they find out that their- their fffffriend is carrying the fucking antichrist!" As Crowley spoke, his voice got louder. Aziraphale shrunk down in his seat. 

"Perhaps we should go elsewhere. Maybe the Ritz wasn't the best place to announce that." Aziraphale rubbed his temples, his cake uneaten and forgotten about. He couldn't eat when he was having to go through the mental gymnastics of coming to terms that he was expecting the Antichrist. 

"No, no. We'll do it here. S'fine. I'm calm. For real, this time." Crowley sighed heavily, taking another long drink. "So… How's… Things?" 

"Not well, I'm afraid. I'm- well- I'm quite… Scared." Aziraphale shrunk even further in his seat. "I simply do not understand why your side couldn't do this. It is your side's child, after all." 

Crowley shrugged, then sniffed, then darted his tongue out, tasting the air. "God, you already smell different. Won't be long until everyone knows, at this rate."

"New cologne. My barber said I smelled nice in it… You don't like it…" Aziraphale whimpered. He bit his lip, daring to finally look up at Crowley. He could barely see it, but the demon's eyes were fully yellow behind his glasses. 

"No, s'not that. You angels all smell… Sweet. Like, really sweet. Even with your cologne. It's all that purity you've got, I suppose. But now you've got this new smell to you. Tiny, hardly there. Probably couldn't smell it if I wasn't part snake, but it's like… Sour. This sharp smell that cuts through that sweetness. S'horrible. Should start wearing perfume, angel. Hope it covers that smell up." Crowley leaned back in his chair, frowning at the angel's plate. "Not hungry?"

"Not really, no. I doubt many people would be after getting the news that they will be carrying the son of Satan." Aziraphale gave a sad chuckle. "Would you like to have the cake? For the first time in millenia, I am truly not hungry." 

"Naaah. You know I don't like stuff like that." Crowley wrinkled his nose. "So. What are you gonna name it?" 

"Name-? They're not getting a name. I will- I will deliver them and then they will be… Passed along to a couple wanting a baby. Adopted out." 

"Ooh, shilling off the son of Satan to some poor, random couple. That is evil, Aziraphale. You sure you don't want to join our side?" Crowley grinned, running his tongue across his top teeth. 

"Well, fine. I shall deliver them, then… You know. Do what I must." Aziraphale poked at the cake with his spoon again. "I don't want to say it." 

"'I know'? No, I don't actually know. Not a mind reader, actually."

"Get… Rid of them." Aziraphale looked down at the floor, ashamed of even having to say it. Across the table, Crowley sat up in his seat with a look halfway between shock and excitement. 

"You'd murder a baby?! Ooh, truly evil. You sure those wings of yours aren't dyed white?" Crowley tapped his hands on the table. "Cause I think they're black underneeeeeath." 

"No, I am not a demon! And I-I don't know what to do with it! I don't want armageddon, but I'll be killed if I-I attempt to abort the child, so I- Oh, Crowley, I truly do not know what to do… Help me… Please…" Aziraphale begged, sounding close to tears. "I don't know how I am going to survive with such a demonic entity inside me… I'm scared…"

Crowley, for once in his life, had gone silent. Aziraphale looked up, his eyes glassy, and saw Crowley looking almost… Upset, behind his glasses. Finally, he spoke. 

"You're gonna be alright, angel. Promise. Baby's gonna pop out and I'll deal with it. Somehow. I think. But for the minute…" Crowley sighed, reaching under the table and taking Aziraphale's hand. "I'll have to stay near you. Keep that thing happy. If I don't keep close, it's gonna give you hell. Literally. Demons being near'll settle it." 

"Oh… Oh, thank you, Crowley, thank you so much.." Aziraphale's shoulders slumped as he relaxed, knowing that he was going to be well cared for and protected. "Thank you…" 

"Stop it. Stop being all 'oh, thank you, my lord and saviour Crowley, I am forever in your debt, you wonderful beautiful demon'. I'm just making sure that thing doesn't kill you. I owe you a few favours, anyways." Crowley shrugged, giving Aziraphale's hand a squeeze before pulling back. 

"Yes, of course. My apologies." Aziraphale cleared his throat. "If- If you are required to be close to me, then I believe a room has miraculously just become available in the flat above my bookshop." 

"Best go have a look then, eh?" Crowley grinned, downing the rest of the wine. Aziraphale hadn't even touched his glass. 

"Yes. Let's." 

And with that, the two strolled out of the Ritz, Aziraphale making finger guns at a waiter in passing and miraculously paying their bill without even being handed it.


End file.
